White Boar and the Red Dragon, The Read Free Page B

when summoned by Lord Neville. King Edward also sent urgent messages asking to be informed of Richard’s daily condition. He loved his young brother dearly; no one could deny that. He wished he was able to leave affairs of state and come up to Yorkshire at once to be by Richard’s bedside.
    The doctors just shook their heads in consternation after examining him many times. They took samples of his urine, bled him daily, and also obtained samples of faeces, which they pondered over and discussed lengthily. They made him stick out his tongue whilst they observed it from all angles and peered down his throat inquiringly. They poked and prodded his arms and legs and moved them around in different directions until he cried out with pain. But it was obvious they were completely baffled by his illness.
    ‘It is a mystery to us,’ Dr Hobbes hesitantly confided at last, not wanting to admit their inadequacy in the situation, but forced to. ‘The sore throat and the streaming cold seem to have abated, and he can now breathe almost normally—God be praised—but the paralysis—it may persist!’
    The other doctors nodded sagely, afraid to impart this grave news but impelled to and feeling foolish, no doubt in the duchess’s rather forbidding presence.
    ‘His shoulder, arm, and leg may never properly recover, if at all! We think he has had a rare case of what is known as infantile paralysis. He has, in fact, escaped lightly, Madam, if it is that dreaded childhood disease!’
    ‘He will certainly live now, of that we can be sure! Most die of it. I have heard of cases in Italy recently where death has occurred quickly, because the chest muscles were affected so badly the patients could not breathe—’
    ‘Yes, yes!’ interrupted the Duchess impatiently. ‘Are you trying to tell me that he is to be a cripple then?’ she cried horrified. ‘Is there nothing more you can do for him?’
    ‘Nothing, my lady, we freely admit it. His recovery is in God’s hands now. We can only pray. We advise you to do likewise.’
    They withdrew, rubbing their hands together and shaking their heads in a futile fashion.
    But Richard did improve, slowly, it was true, for he had made up his mind to recover completely. This was not going to beat him! He could not wait to get outside and start his training again to be a knight. His whole being was focused on just that.
    His mother prayed daily for him in Middleham Castle Chapel, as did Lord Neville and his entire family, and the villagers prayed in the local church. Richard was popular with them, always engaging them in conversation when he was well; asking about their work, their families, and their problems.
    Lord Neville came to see him every day as well, to cheer and encourage him, as did Francis Lovell and Robert Percy, his friends, also Anne, Isabel, and Lord Neville’s wife, the Lady Ann. Little Anne in particular was always by his side. She seemed to spend most of her time with him, chattering away and plumping up his pillows—also dosing him with the obnoxious mixtures the doctors had prescribed to build up his strength again. He much preferred her company to the fussy old nurse, though he knew she tried to do her best to care for him.
    ‘If it weren’t for you, Anne, I would go mad stuck in this room! Only you, your family, Francis, and Robert come to visit me. George has been only twice, and then I know he could not wait to get away again as quickly as possible! He made that obvious by wrinkling up his nose when he came in! That hurt! I suppose sickrooms do get stuffy and smelly, but I can’t help it and he did not bother to hide how he felt. But that’s George—selfish through and through! I love him but I often don’t like him much!
    And then there’s Mother! She has only visited me once, as far as I know! I was asleep and woke to see her standing at the bottom of my bed gazing silently down at me, and the look on her face, I could not make it out. There was pity there, but